A Different Man
by Shipperwolf
Summary: She'd forgiven him long ago, but that didn't stop him from needing to hear it. Oneshot, Caryl, Post-S3


**Ollo fellow Carylers!**

**I had one of my random itches, so...here's a thing!**

**As always, I disclaim all rights to the show and characters the thing is based on.**

**Please enjoy the thing and let me know how you feel ^.^**

* * *

It was a normal day when he brought it up, just as normal as any other in their post-apocalyptic hell, and she'd certainly not expected it.

But she wouldn't dare question his need to address it, or to resolve it….not when he looked at her so intensely.

Not when he looked at her so _desperately_.

* * *

It was getting cold again.

She made sure to bundle Judith up extra-tight for the evening, though the little two month-old put up quite the fight against it. Rick happily took her when Carol finished securing a too-big baby cap over her fuzzy little head, freeing her to join the others near the fire they'd set up in the yard.

The Woodbury newcomers huddled around it on one side, grateful for the heat. The prison interior was holding the cold, something they had grown unused to in their time living under the false sense of luxury the Governor used to sate and control them. Opposite the jumble of elders and innocent youth her own little family sat chatting, Hershel taking the initiative to engage some of the older residents in conversation.

Carol grinned as she approached; the sun was dipping towards the trees and a cool wind blew embers into the air, but not a single person shivered in cold or in fear. The yard beyond the fences was clear of Walkers and two separate patrols paced the perimeter at all times.

For once, they all felt safe.

Beth smiled up at her in greeting and Carol nodded down in return before fixing her gaze to the fence line. Daryl strode into view almost as if in response to a silent call, ending his hour-long walk of the yard and heading in to switch out and warm his chilled skin.

Behind him, still finishing his own patrol, Carol could make out one of the stronger additions to the group, Tyreese, a rifle hanging from his shoulder and his favored baseball bat being twirled in one hand.

The man was eager to prove himself, always volunteering for one duty or another; Rick and Daryl had no problem assigning him plenty to do.

Michonne rose from her place hidden near the back of the group, fixing her sword sheath to her back and giving Rick a silent nod as she headed out to relieve Daryl. She watched the woman make eye contact with Daryl as they passed each other, but no words seemed to be spoken.

It was true that she was one of them now, but like Daryl, everyone knew when to talk to her and when not to.

And Carol figured, just maybe, Daryl had a harder time addressing the woman who had seen Merle's last moments alive, seen the first of his final acts of nobility, but hadn't been there to prevent his death.

He knew Michonne wasn't to blame. But the sympathy that passed from one person to the other worked hard on both of them and Carol knew it was just easier not to say it aloud.

Carol met Daryl's eyes as he neared the fire, and the man stopped short as if shot.

She smiled at him, an invitation to come on over and stand with her near the others. Instead, Daryl blinked at her hesitantly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that had her upturned lips drooping in concern. Carol was aware of Beth still looking at her, waiting for her to cuddle up near the warmth.

When Daryl glanced at the group and then jerked his head at her curtly, she looked down at Beth, smiled a small apology, and slinked away from the flames, following her friend with the full intent of finding what it was that seemed to trouble him.

* * *

He led her towards a corner of the inner fence, close enough to the large fire to still be able to see each other, but far enough away to not be heard. Along the way Carol caught him glancing back at her, his shoulders slumped slightly. She felt herself fighting a sad laugh. Since taking in the Woodbury residents she had moved into Daryl's cell to help make room, and during that time Daryl had seemed to become a bit more open to casual chatting, even going so far as to make small talk on Sundays when the entire block would lazily eat breakfast in their cells.

His sudden shift in mood had her worried, but no overtly so; Daryl was not the person he was at the quarry, and he wasn't the man who curled brooding in a tent on the farm, either. He was something more: something different, and yet unchanged.

Grown.

Evolved.

Carol caught up to him as he leaned against the fence and raised his dipped head to look at her.

She wasted no time, her breath puffing white in the night air as she fought to catch it and speak simultaneously,

"Okay, what's going on…"

He shifted in place, reaching behind to pull the bow from his back and set it down against the fence at his feet. Leaning back further, he almost looked relaxed, cool….but she knew better.

He was trying too hard.

Daryl shrugged, once, breaking the gaze they shared to glance upward, eyes following the sparks that glittered the darkening sky around them.

"Just wanted to…uh, talk to ya'."

_Progress. _

They talked pretty often these days, but never had he expressed the _want_ to do so. And if she dared to venture, she'd guess this was more something he _needed_ to get off his chest.

The tense lift of his shoulders told her it wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

Not really.

"Okay, I'll bite; what are we talkin' about?"

His eyes narrowed at her tight smile.

He was calling out her pathetic attempt at appearing casual just as much as she was his, and she nearly laughed at the both of them. The corners of her mouth slid upward, and Daryl fixed his gaze on the flash of her teeth.

She watched him cross his arms and breathe out heavily, a large cloud of white floating into the air between them.

"Been about a year, ya' know…since we left the farm."

Her head craned sideways of its own accord and Carol took a step closer to him, already trying to guess where his thoughts were straying.

Fall was settling in over the prison; the same bite in the air the signaled the threat of winter back on the cozy little Greene farm was easing its way back into their lives, bringing back memories of that night, of the Herd, Shane's death, a blazing barn and dying screams.

Lori's pregnancy.

Rick's confession.

Sophia.

She kept quiet but nodded, posture softening as she struggled to catch Daryl's eyes again and read his expression.

He avoided her face again, squinting behind him at the last ray of sunlight streaking through the trees. It would be gone soon, the fire the last bit of light they would have until they headed inside to light the candles they would ready for bed to.

Daryl sighed, silent; she could see it in the small heave of his chest, in the anxious blink of his eyes, in the tightening grip of his hands on their opposite arms.

And then he looked at her.

Carol felt something crack at the intensity of his gaze, the pleading blaze of blue-green that bore into her as his lips parted and he licked them wet before all but whispering,

"Was just…thinkin' about the night after Sophia…"

He trailed, blinked away from her eyes for but a moment before sighing again, heavier this time, arms lowering to bring balling fists down to his sides.

Carol held her breath, uncertain of where he was going but very sure of how important it was that he say what he needed to say…

Another puffy breath.

She didn't move.

"When you came to find me, ya know, I hollered at ya' somethin' fierce…"

Carol shook her head, smiling despite the memory,

"Wasn't nothin' I hadn't taken before…"

Daryl swallowed then, broke from the fence to take a step into her space.

"I rose my fist to ya, too."

She nodded.

No sense denying what was true.

"You did."

"Shouldn'ta' done it."

"You didn't hit me, Daryl."

"Came close."

"Coulda' come closer."

"Yer missin' the damn _point_."

She laughed, and Daryl's desperate gaze hardened into something that bordered on _hurt_ until she reached out to lay a cool hand against his cheek.

He froze, peering down at her as she swallowed the remaining space between them and she smiled when he didn't pull away.

"What's the point, then, Daryl?"

The look softened again. Embers flickered in his eyes and his brows drew tight as his face moved just slight enough to make her swear that he was nuzzling her palm.

"I never apologized."

"You never needed to…"

"_The hell I didn't_. I ain't like that. I ain't like my old man and I sure as hell ain't like _Ed_. At least…I didn't wanna be."

Carol felt his breath in her face and realized with a blink that she'd invaded his space much further than she'd planned, holding Daryl's face with one hand and forcing him to continue looking her in the eye.

He was gritting his teeth, shooting her that look that just crossed the line between helplessly angry and pleadingly gentle, fists still balled tight and body as rigid as a man electrocuted.

"Daryl, you were a different man a year ago. We were _all_ different. We've all changed, in some way or other. But you were _never_ the kind of man Ed was. I told you so once, if you recall."

He huffed, relaxing slightly beneath her hold.

"Still shouldn't have done it. Still should've apologized."

"And I forgave you a _long_ time ago."

His scruff tickled her hand as she slid it farther back, brushing the lobe of his ear as her fingers snaked to the back of his neck.

If she didn't do it now, she'd lose her nerve.

And he'd bolt the moment she let him go.

Carol leaned up and kissed him: a small, hot press of her lips just at the edge of his own. She was surprised to feel his mouth attempt a response almost instinctively, even as she was pulling away.

She looked up at him, into those desperate eyes that flashed like the fire behind them and let her hand drop from his head, bringing it down to grasp at one of his loosening fists,

"I don't know about you, but I'm startin' to freeze out here."

She grinned, tugging at his arm.

With nothing more to be said Daryl nodded and attempted a smile of his own, fingers lacing into hers. He reached down to fetch his bow before letting her lead him back to the warmth of the fire, and she let his hand slip from hers as they quietly approached.

When she took the spot Beth had saved next to her, Daryl wandered past them to settle in near Carl.

She wasn't disappointed.

Daryl was a different man, she knew, but he was also the same. And some things would never change.

She smiled as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

He watched her from across the flames, and the new intensity in his gaze never faded.


End file.
